10: Night on Chulak
It was nearing sundown on Chulak. The open, sandy clearing around the stargate was brimming with activity. The Calsharan-built compound that surrounded the stargate had been repurposed by the Jaffa: they had turned into a forward operating base for the purpose of being a staging ground for what would likely be the decisive battle in the Jaffa's war with the occupying Calsharans. The orange-hued sky, brought on by one of the world's twin suns settling behind the horizon, was dotted with clouds. The first stars of twilight had become visible, as had one of Chulak's barren moons. The second sun was little more than an hour behind its twin, and the relative quiet of the forested valley would sometimes become broken by the sound of energy weapons fire, or the whine of a Jaffa death glider zooming overhead, or even by the more subdued whirr of the engines on a Calsharan fighter flying in opposition.
The compound was full of Jaffa, some in the traditional chainmail outfits common to the warrior class, others in simple hand-tailored farmer and labourer attire. Many civilian volunteers had joined the fight over the past several months, determined to see the Calsharan forces run off of the planet altogether. The fight had been long and gruelling, with many losses taken on both sides, but now the final victory on Chulak was at hand. There was a sense of anticipation, tempered with the anxiety so common on the verge of battle, and it left the atmosphere within the compound feeling almost charged.
Jaffa warriors practised in the open ground at the compound's centre, others trained with staff weapons and firearms at a makeshift range on the compound's eastern flank; various earthen-toned tents had been erected amongst the more boxy Calsharan prefab structures, and Jaffa from all walks of life milled about the camp, going about the preparations necessary for the fight to come. Gun emplacements surrounded the camp, and every so often one of the plasma cannons would fire a volley at some far-off Calsharan fighter. In the end, such shots were often futile, and the fighters themselves steered clear or were otherwise engaged by Jaffa death gliders.
High above, hardly visible from the ground, a Calsharan taskforce engaged in skirmishes with Jaffa starships of various makes; a few of the large ha'tak vessels, joined with one of the smaller pyramid ships and many wings of death gliders. It was a hit-and-run war up there, with one side striking the other before retreating and regrouping. The intention was to wear the enemy down and keep them preoccupied, and as it stood only a handful of Calsharan frigates remained. Come tomorrow morning, the ships of the Free Jaffa Nation in orbit would launch an all-out attack upon the Calsharan ships, just as the warriors on the ground would conduct their final push against the capital city. That city, bearing the name of the planet, was visible on the hillside that overlooked the surrounding forest, many miles westwards. It was a city of old stone buildings, columns and arches; and right at its crest, above all else, was the great temple. The seat of government for Chulak, currently occupied by the Calsharan military governor and his associates.
Aithris stood upon the fire-step inside of the perimeter wall, a short way beneath its topmost edge. He was in his SG-team uniform, coloured a drab green, the sleeves a little tight against his muscular arms. Slung about his shoulder was his SCAR-H, and he gazed across the surrounding clearing towards the city, his keen violet-hued eyes taking in the small details: the odd flash of weapons fire, the darting of a fighter craft over the city, the lights that gradually came on within numerous windows as sundown closed in. Tomorrow, the people within that city would carry out an uprising in conjunction with the Jaffa attack. The Calsharan authorities were likely moving through the streets now, attempting to seek out and quell any attempts to organize resistance within the city. And even from here, miles away, Aithris could spot the gun emplacements along the city walls and even on the rooftops of some of the more prominent buildings. The Calsharans had turned the city into a fortress, and they were not likely to give it up easily.
It seemed like yesterday that he had been here, helping to rescue Teal'c. Of course, that had been months ago during their last visit to this planet. Then, the team had infiltrated the occupied city and made it into the great temple wherein the ageing Jaffa master had been held captive. From there, it had been a run downhill and a fight through the forest. And through some miracle, they had succeeded and the team had taken no casualties. Aithris sometimes wondered when that luck would run out, but it was a dour thought that, when it did come up, he usually pushed it aside. There was no point dwelling on such things. All one could do was fight their hardest, look out for their comrades and hope for a bit of luck to come their way. All the skills and training in the world could not account for every eventuality.
"By this time tomorrow, the Calsharans will be off of our world." Aithris recognized the wizened voice, and he turned his head to his right to find that Bra'tac had sidled up alongside him. Aithris had not heard him coming, a credit to the old man's experience and skills as a warrior. The old Jaffa master wore a long, light-blue robe over his armour. He had done away with his skull cap, leaving his bald head bare. His beard was long and grey, his faced lined with his many years and perhaps made more pronounced by his many battles. Gentle blue eyes regarded Aithris with interest, and so the Nomad met the old warrior's gaze and smiled.
"You're confident of that?" Aithris asked.
"Of course. Our cause is just. They are here because of greed. We are here because this is our home, our land." Some ways behind them, there came laughter. John Sheppard was showing off one of the new anti-air launchers to a group of Jaffa, and something had fallen off of the weapon's on-board computer when he had pulled it out of its case. Daniel was there with him, as was Elsie. Natalia was nowhere in sight, presumably hanging around within the warmth of one of the tents. It was a cold night out here, made all the colder with the setting of the first sun.
"The Calsharans have been pulling back their forces across the galaxy," Aithris said. "They've got trouble at home. A civil war."
"Tyranny tears itself apart eventually," Bra'tac said, nodding his head slowly. "However, the Governor here is stubborn. He no doubt fears disgrace if he abandons Chulak, so he sends his soldiers into a battle that is becoming increasingly difficult for them. From what I have learned this past month, their morale is low, their resources stretched thin. That is why I am confident, Aithris of the Nomads. Victory will be ours tomorrow, and with you and the others of SG-1 here with us, our chances of victory are greater." He smiled then, and he gave the Nomad a reassuring pat upon the back. Every so often, the stoic warrior would show his lighter side. He was an interesting man, old yet still spry to the point Aithris almost envied him for it. Jaffa were long lived, although many warriors did not get as old as Bra'tac. There was a human expression he had heard once or twice before, that one should fear the old man in a profession where most die young. Bra'tac was the epitome of that, and Teal'c as well. They were strong allies to have, and no doubt even more troublesome enemies.
"It's not the Calsharans I worry about," Aithris stated. "Not really. It's the others, the Demons, the Scourge."
Bra'tac frowned upon hearing this, wary but curious.
"I have been informed of them, and I have heard rumours from the far reaches of the Free Jaffa Nation of some alien force making itself known. However, it is yet to encroach within our territory, and I suspect they have specific goals in mind. Conquest is a Calsharan motive."
"They've had one-thousand years to build their forces," Aithris said. "The Calsharans had an alliance, one-thousand years ago, with my people and another. They beat the Scourge back but did not destroy them."
"And now they emerge again, intent on destruction?"
"That's exactly right, Bra'tac. My people called them the 'Void Demons' because it was believed they came from the void between galaxies. To the Calsharans, they're a 'Scourge'. We need to tackle them together."
"And we will. When the Calsharans are no longer within the Free Jaffa Nation, then we will turn our attentions towards this other foe." Bra'tac turned his head then, looking further along the compound wall. Natalia had appeared at the top of the stairs some distance away, no doubt having seen Aithris up here. She started for him now, smiling as their eyes met.
"Our chances of victory are good, but not all of us will survive." Bra'tac spoke a little more solemnly now, and he turned to Aithris again. "This night is one to make the most of, is it not?" He quirked a brow-ridge, as if hinting at something that was not immediately apparent. Aithris frowned, only to feel some small embarrassment once he realised just what the old warrior was indicating.
"You're very perceptive, old man," Aithris remarked.
"I have had a long time to perfect the reading of others," Bra'tac said. His voice lowered as Natalia neared. "I know love when I see it." He turned to Natalia and offered her a smile. "Sergeant Natalia of Russia, it is good to see you."
"Master Bra'tac." She stopped a few paces from the pair. "Cold night, isn't it?"
"Indeed it is," Bra'tac said. He gestured towards one of the tents behind them. "There are some vacant tents there and plenty of blankets within. I suggest you two make good use of them." He gave her a slight bow, before he started back along the walls and for the steps. Natalia frowned, watching him leave for a moment, before she set her attention upon Aithris.
"Now, what did he mean by that?" She asked him. Aithris smiled, and Natalia returned the gesture in turn. Neither needed to vocalise their answer.
Night had fallen, and Lieutenant Elsie Rhodes found herself seated before a campfire with three Jaffa warriors. Dinner had been served earlier, consisting of a stew made from the meat of a local livestock animal, something not dissimilar to a deer that was apparently a staple of the Jaffa diet on Chulak. Her stomach had taken it in well enough, although what she did long for was something sweet. Maybe a Coca-Cola, despite knowing full well that no such thing was to be found on Chulak. Instead, as the night deepened, Elsie found herself awake and alert and increasingly bored.
John and Daniel had given a demonstration of one of the anti-air launchers. That demonstration had seen them fire a blistering blue ball of sparkling plasma energy into the side of a hill, which had led to many cheers from the onlooking Jaffa. The two of them were in the main tent now, no doubt going over the battle plans for the attack tomorrow with the Jaffa leadership. From what Elsie could tell, that leadership consisted of Bra'tac, Teal'c and a handful of other experienced Jaffa warriors and statesmen.
If there was one thing she had noticed about the Jaffa, it was that most of their politicians were former warriors. The warrior class had the power and influence here, whereas the bulk of the nobility had lost their power when the Goa'uld had been defeated. As an outsider, she could not really grasp the kind of upheaval that Jaffa society had experienced during their rebellion against the Goa'uld. Many had died, entire worlds had been ravaged and yet through it all, the Jaffa had become stronger for it. Now they could decide their own destinies, instead of being beholden to false gods. That was admirable, and it explained their ferocity in the fight here on Chulak.
Elsie was seated upon a simple wooden bench, the fire burning a few metres ahead of her. Embers drifted in the cool breeze. She fiddled with her father's old silver lighter, a memento she carried with her despite not being a smoker. It was useful, of course, for one could never be sure when they needed to start a fire. The nickel-plated lighter was engraved with her father's name, and it had been a long time ago when he had carried it with him during the Vietnam War.
The compound had fallen quiet at the latening hour, and many of the soldiers present had retired for the night. Lanterns burned about the place and sentries patrolled the walls and surrounding clearing. To her left was an older Jaffa, a man with a stern countenance and greying dark hair. Across from her was a younger man, dressed in a dirty farmer's outfit, just another civilian volunteer determined to see the invaders gone from his world. And to her right, a scraggly, bearded man in a dusty black robe, the seal of Apophis tattooed to his forehead. The one on her left, Reykau, lacked any such marking. From what she had gathered, he had been a renegade of some sort prior to the Jaffa rebellion. Now he was an official part of the army here, no longer needing to steal from the Goa'uld to sustain himself.
"The hour grows late," he declared, and from a pouch he wore at his waist he withdrew a small brown flask. It was made of something akin to leather, although likely derived from the hide of some alien animal. "The fighting nearby has stopped." He was right about this; the occasional bout of weapons fire that had sounded from somewhere distant had ceased some time before. They were not the only bastion of Jaffa along the frontline here, and others dotted about the forested hills around them would join the offensive tomorrow morning.
"What about you, woman?" It was the older, bearded Jaffa who spoke then. His name was Jer'vauc, that is, if Elsie was remembering it correctly. He was like Teal'c, a veteran of Apophis' service and of the rebellion. The fact that he simply called her 'woman' in a tone that was vaguely derisive caused her to quirk a brow, but she did not complain. The Jaffa had their ways, and as the outsider here she had no real place to protest.
"What about me?" She asked. She stowed the old lighter into her pocket. Beside her, her Barrett M82A1 was leaning against the wooden bench. Firelight gleamed upon its metal frame.
"Can you fight?" Jer'vauc asked her.
"Sure I can," Elsie answered, trying not to sound too insulted. "I wouldn't be here if I couldn't."
The old Jaffa grunted, neither in confirmation nor disagreement. It was more of a simple acknowledgment. The younger one of the three spoke up then. Nevoc was his name, and his blue eyes seemed to contain an eagerness the other two me did not display.
"Have you fought the lizards?" He asked her.
"Yeah, more than once." She prodded her left cheek with one finger. "Lost a few teeth to the bastards. Had to get implants."
"Implants?" Reykau asked, some confusion showing on his face.
"Fake teeth. They get screwed into the jawbone." And what a nuisance they were to get. For a solid few days after the first procedure, her face had swollen up like a pufferfish. "I've got my scars, just like you three."
"New teeth?" Jer'vauc furrowed his brow. "I could do with some of those myself." He opened his mouth to emphasise his point, revealing numerous gaps between what few yellowed teeth he possessed.
"This woman would fight her enemies from afar," Reykau said, and he motioned to the Barrett rifle at her side. "She would pick them off before they even knew she was present."
"Is that so bad?" Elsie asked him.
"There is little honour to be had there," Jer'vauc added. "But sometimes, an intelligent battle is not necessarily an honourable one. I am sure the Lieutenant here is proficient in her role. She would not be here if she were not. Your teams only consist of the best of your warriors, is that not true?"
Elsie smirked and nodded her head. She was hardly the 'best', but fortune had favoured her enough for her to land in SG-1. It seemed unlikely any other team would have her, especially as her previous team had been slaughtered by the Calsharans on the far-flung world of Dalabrai. She had been lucky then, and she had been even luckier when Colonel Sheppard had offered her a place on the team. She sometimes thought that one day, her luck would run out. It was bound to happen, surely?
Footsteps at the edge of their campsite alerted the group. They all looked towards their source, sighting the broad-shouldered and robed figure who had appeared against the darkened edge of the camp at their left flank. The figure was cast in shadow, and his face was covered, the hood of his robe further shrouding his appearance. The robe was of a plain grey Jaffa design, with a thick brown leather belt around the waist.
"Who goes there?" Jer'vauc asked.
"A friend," the figure replied. His voice sounded familiar, if slightly muffled. Elsie frowned, scraping her mind for where she had heard those tones before. The figure strode towards them, and as he neared the scraggly, bearded Jaffa, Jer'vauc moved aside enough on his bench to allow the newcomer to sit among them. Elsie watched the newcomer, and she realised very quickly that it was Teal'c underneath that getup. For whatever reason, he had concealed his features. She suspected he was simply trying to merge incognito with the regular warriors and civilian volunteers. Elsie kept her revelation quiet, and instead watched the hooded figure attentively.
"How goes the night?" Teal'c asked the group. Reykau gave a slight shrug of the shoulders. He plucked a weed from the dirt near his feet and twirled the green stem between his calloused fingers, an absent gesture whilst he thought of his reply.
"It presents a quiet on the eve of battle, brother," Reykau said, finally. "I am as willing to fight as the next Jaffa, to lay down my life if necessary for the cause of freedom, but my mind is troubled."
"As is mine," Jer'vauc added, and he nodded his head in agreement.
"Troubled?" Teal'c had likely cocked an eyebrow under the cloth wrappings that concealed his face. "How so?"
"It is what comes after the fight that troubles me most," Reykau explained. "For the second time in recent history, we fight to free Chulak from oppression. And yet, whereas the first time it was to do away with its Goa'uld rulers for good, I suspect the fight tomorrow will simply be the beginning, rather than an end. There are rumours of another enemy out there, on the far reaches of the Free Jaffa Nation. Demons encased in living armour. Ships made of rock, capable of unleashing energies that are unknowable and arcane to us."
"I've seen them," Elsie interjected then, and the others looked her way. Reykau appeared disbelieving, although the others were certainly interested to hear more. "Their soldiers, encased in living armour like you said. And even their commanders, the 'Heralds', who arrive ahead of the main force to pave the way for their conquest." She paused, realising that she was still not sure of whether 'conquest' was the purpose there. "I mean, it certainly looks like a conquest. But I have seen one of their ships. Our fleet was almost wiped out by one of them."
"And if the Tauri cannot fight these monsters, then how much better will we fare when the time comes?" Reykau directed this question towards Teal'c. "The time will come, will it not?"
"Most likely," Teal'c replied. "If we are to face any such threat, then it is best we remain allied to the Tauri. Together, we can defeat any foe, no matter how arcane the energies at their disposal." Teal'c allowed some small measure of confidence to seep into his voice, an otherwise unusual characteristic for the normally stoic Jaffa.
"We cannot fall beholden to the Tauri," Jer'vauc declared. He eyed Elsie then, as if expecting a reaction from her. She simply shrugged and leaned back where she sat. Embers flicked about the campfire, and some were carried along the cold breeze, fading only seconds after being drawn from the flames.
"We are not beholden to them, brother," Teal'c countered.
"And yet we rely on them for weapons, even ammunition," Reykau added. "Our industrial capacity is limited. The Goa'uld—"
"The Goa'uld used slave labour to sustain their manufacturing industry," Teal'c interrupted, his voice adopting a more forceful tone. "We will not stoop to such a level."
"And so the Jaffa fall behind," Nevoc, the youngest of the Jaffa present about the fire, said. "The Goa'uld did not leave us with the knowledge necessary to maintain those technologies they left in our possession. In fact, they rarely informed us of how these things functioned even when they ruled us."
"A close alliance with the Tauri would benefit us," Teal'c countered. "They can assist us to build ourselves up, just as they have assisted us before." He looked to Elsie then, his eyes barely visible through the slit amongst the cloth wrappings he wore about his head. "We need each other, regardless of our own personal feelings on the matter."
"Te—" She stopped herself quickly, before smiling to the others. "I mean, he's right. Once the Calsharans are dealt with, we'll have to work together. I can't speak for the leaders back home, but I think some of even them will see that an alliance is necessary. And I mean, more than just us five, that is, SG-1, being here as advisors. There needs to be a future of full cooperation."
"As long as the humans of the Tauri do not attempt to change our ways," Reykau stated.
"Oh, somehow I don't think that should be a problem," Elsie said. "You Jaffa are a stubborn bunch." She saw Reykau and Jer'vauc look her way, their expressions showing some annoyance. "In a good way, I mean. Like me, I'm stubborn. I don't know when to quit. Try talking me out of something and it ain't going to work."
"Would you be willing to put that on record?" Now a very familiar voice sounded from her right. Elsie looked up, startled to find that John had appeared a few paces from her. He stood in the wavering orange light of the fire, offering the Lieutenant a wry smirk. The others all turned to him then, curious as to this latest visitor, if a little apprehensive on the part of Reykau and Jer'vauc.
"It's getting late, Lieutenant." He directed his full attention towards her. "You might want to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."
The Colonel was right, of course. Anyhow, Elsie did feel a little weary.
"Good to see you're making friends," John remarked, and he gave a small gesture towards those gathered around the fire.
"Where were you, sir?"
"Just had an interesting talk with the Jaffa in charge. Seems none of them are too concerned with what we do with ourselves tomorrow."
"What does that mean, sir?"
"It means, we can do what we want when the shooting starts. Of course, Bra'tac offered us a position in his vanguard for the battle." He took a few steps closer to her, allowing the warmth of the fire to fall over him. "That would mean, Lieutenant, we'll be right in the thick of it. Not what I was expecting, but it would be poor form to decline such an offer, wouldn't you agree?"
With Teal'c and the other Jaffa watching, Elsie realised that she could only nod her head in agreement. Sure, it was not the most ideal position to take in a large-scale offensive, but if John was on board with it then she supposed she would have to be as well.
"Come on, Lieutenant. There's a tent somewhere with your name on it."
Elsie rose to her feet, taking up her rifle as she went. The others watched her go, and the disguised Teal'c left the group then as well. He made his way for another handful of Jaffa elsewhere in the camp, presumably to get a read on what they thought of the situation.
Elsie fell into step beside John. They passed by several tents, all occupied. After about a minute, they came upon one with an open flap. Inside were spread simple beddings, covered with several cushions. A small oil lantern glowed in one corner.
"Here you are, Lieutenant." John stopped by the entrance and motioned inside.
"And you, sir?" She asked him.
"I'll be out here, under the stars." John sounded content with this. Elsie got the impression that he may have been making the gesture to respect her privacy.
"Sir, you can…"
"It's all right, Lieutenant. Get your rest. I'll see you at dawn tomorrow." John turned and walked away, leaving Elsie alone to her private tent. It was close to where the handful of Jaffa women in the camp had their tents, most of them wives to warriors present here. That section of the overall compound was quiet, and even the bulk of the lanterns within those tents had been put out. The only real source of light out here came from that of Chulak's twin moons, both silvery crescents far above. The reflected light from the twin suns rendered them brighter than even Earth's moon, and as such a cloudless night on Chulak was rarely, if ever, pitch black.
There was a sense of peace to the place. A peace that, she knew, would be gone come dawn. As new as she was to SG-1, even she knew that the battle tomorrow was little more than a beginning. The real fight was yet to come.